


To Comfort His Highness

by littlereadingetsor



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Guilt, M/M, did i actually write angst for a change?, heavy thinking, listening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-26 19:14:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15669552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlereadingetsor/pseuds/littlereadingetsor
Summary: It's not enough to worry about matters during all hours of the day. When you hide what you feel behind your face, it slips every once in a while. Ignis needs to find a way to help let that out. But what must he do for the better of his Prince?





	To Comfort His Highness

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't think I was gonna craft an angst fic, but hey look-o here it is-o. For the sake of being a shoulder to cry on without actually being where he wants to be, Ignis can do the right thing, despite how it pains him. I know he's a good man; he would do this. This was inspired by a sparking idea while I was... experiencing some emotions and thought about how Ignis would handle comfort. Take a look~

It was dumb.

It was stupid.

Noct had told himself a thousand times to get over it; to let it go. To be strong and not show his pain on the surface. To keep it inside. But…

“This is about more than just you!” he could still hear Gladio’s accusing shouts. “That doesn’t matter right now. You can’t act like an asshole whenever you want, do you understand that?”

Jerk. He just didn’t get it.

It wasn’t as if Noctis didn’t take the warning seriously. He’d thought about it over and over, relentlessly. The burdens were merciless. And they never went away. Yes, he knew the importance of the matter that Gladio was trying to convey. Yes, he was ever aware of the irrefutable consequences. As was his responsibility of being a Prince.

It played out in his mind, this concept. It weighed so heavily upon him until it was nearly harmful. It crushed him, and he couldn’t hide it anymore in spite of his best efforts. Not in front of Gladio. Not in that heated moment. Noctis couldn’t contain the way it all truly boiled up in him. Once the restraint was broken, the tears flooded out.

It was pathetic really, but it was his rawest honesty. His duties were ruining him. It was as miserable as it was inescapable.

And it was so lonely.

Quite some time had gone by before the Royal Shield – the opponent of the Prince’s breaking point – had accepted that Noctis completely fled his schedule. He wasn’t coming back. It had been almost half an hour since his Highness had stormed away in a blind fury, using his magic to get his distance. From that point forward, he’d been searching high and low for him.

The Crownsguard thought to himself while briefly pacing each hall, _“His father would come undone if he knew his son was warping indoors.”_

Ballroom: empty. Library: no hope (much to Gladio’s expectations). Kitchen, dining hall, no sign. Even his regular hangouts of the Citadel were fruitless. Just as he was beginning to panic and debating a desperate prayer to the old kings, he came across a blessing. Gladio nearly left skid trails with his boots as he halted just before colliding with the Prince’s mentor, Scientia. Both drew their breath, shocked by the near accident.

“Ignis! Thank the gods,” the Shield exclaimed. “I was about to call for backup.”

The Royal Advisor immediately pulled a face. “Most improper…” he retorted. His expression was clearly displeased.

“Listen, before you get angry, I need your help.”

“Doubtless.” A hand reached up to adjust the glasses sliding down his nose. “What have you done now?”

Gladio raised his arms as if to corral Ignis’s voice into a whisper. He turned his head and looked carefully in each direction. “Just don’t make a scene or anything.”

Despite the occupation of paperwork in Ignis’s arms, he managed to place his fists on his hips. He was beginning to resemble the embodiment of frustration, scolding to Gladio’s rude behavior. “I very much don’t like the sound of that,” he grunted.

_“Maybe,”_ Gladio imagined, _“I’ve stumbled upon more of a curse than a blessing.”_ He started to sweat.

“What’s going on?” Ignis asked. He shook his head and leant in to hear what excuse the fellow was waiting to surprise him with.

“Well…” he started slyly before lowering his tone. “It’s about the Prince.”

The agitation vanished from Ignis at the mentioning and worry quickly moved in to replace it. “Where is he?” His voice altered in concern.

Gladio choked on a forced laugh. “Well, um, you see-”

Ignis huffed. He grabbed at the sleeve of Gladio’s uniform and started to speed walk in the direction of which he’d came. He managed to worm a story out of him, that a mundane dispute turned ugly between the two when the Prince’s performance in training fell short and his duties became involved. Ignis listened, occasionally throwing a few prodding questions into the conversation.

“So then,” he concluded, “you thought it would be a good idea to pursue the matter of Noct’s responsibilities, which may have been reasonable if you hadn’t decided to approach it in such a taxing manner.” Ignis furrowed his brows as he spat the statement. Now he understood. He continued leading Gladio along a specific route through the twists and turns of the building.

“Come on. You and I _both know_ how stubborn he is. Sometimes, it’s the only way to get him to take things seriously.”

“Perhaps this is merely an opinion Gladio, but I believe that due to his refusal of ‘your side’ of the argument, you may have been too hard on him. You have a tendency of doing that, you know.”

“Yeah,” Gladio glanced away, recalling his anger. He didn’t sound convinced by Ignis’ opinion. “I think that you might be just a little bit too soft.”

Gladio’s footsteps abruptly stopped when Ignis ceased movement. He released his grip on the Shield’s clothing and spun on his heels to meet his eyes. He didn’t take kindly to the accusation. He knew his limits stretched in order to give into Noct’s lesser desires, but he was a professional. He was strict on himself. He was controlled. Gladio seemed to be insinuating that his control was less professional and more personal.

Could it be…?

“Raising the Prince requires a balance of the two,” he snapped from the unfinished thought in his head. “Factually, it is wiser to know the difference between being persistent and being a pest.”

The larger man soaked in the chamberlain’s claim. He had been slightly intimidated by his friend’s fierceness and inevitably, he sighed out in defeat.

Pointing, Ignis changed the topic and faced a door to their side. “I have a hunch he’s inside here.”

“In the nurse’s lounge?” Gladio shrugged.

“I have found him here plenty of times before, post to fights with the staff. It’s somewhere he feels safe. The women are also rather fond of sympathizing with the Prince and, more often than not, manage to spare him from getting into trouble.”

“I can imagine why he likes _that_.” Gladio started for the closed door, ready to put a close to their feud, but was instead held back by Ignis’ hand.

“I’ll take it from here, thank you very much.”

Gladio stalled. “What about your paperwork? You’re busy.”

The latter hummed in an optimistic fashion. He slapped the wad of papers against Gladio’s stiff, wide chest with a smirk. “I wager it can’t be too hard for you to figure out. You’re a true gentleman. Dually appreciated.” With a wave and not a second glance, the Advisor left his partner behind and entered the lounge.

The smooth talking Ignis had anticipated the possibility he would have to convince several sensitive nurses Prince Noctis was obligated to resolve his verbal scrap. Responsibility was important regardless of who was right or wrong. Ignis knew this all too well and he knew he could explain the situation. He was confident he could set things straight. Noct and Gladio would be telling jokes and goofing off with one another by the end of the evening like normal.

To his surprise, however, he found the lounge barren. His eyes widened thoughtfully.

“That’s odd. Where could they be?”

While gazing around for an indicator as to where they might be, Ignis overheard a small noise. The tiny sound came from the south side of the room where he set his sights quickly on the nurse’s restroom door. Quietly, the young man closed the space between himself and the end of the long room, listening closely as he went. The warm sunrays casting through the windows caused him to squint. A glare crossed his lenses that forced him to turn his head to the side, but he focused on his hearing.

It was a voice. Whimpering and wincing. A voice, sad and hurt.

“Highness?” Ignis called. He tried the knob. Locked. He was glad for a lingering moment that his rolling eyes couldn’t be seen. “Your Highness. This is immature. You need to come out right now.”

“ _He_ sent you, didn’t he?” Noctis moaned hatefully from the other side. He was noticeably nasal. “He couldn’t even come say he was sorry by himself. Unbelievable.”

Ignis stiffened at the sound of Noct’s crying, yet he remained composed. “Don’t you realize you’re in a lady’s toilet room?” He attempted to reason with the Prince, but if he had answered him at all, he hadn’t heard it. “If you could just come out, this would be much easier on the both of us. Let me clean you up and we can talk about this.”

No response. The sniffling started to soften. He was forcing it in. Ignis was losing his attention. He needed to do something different.

“…it doesn’t matter…”

“What was that?” Ignis leant closer to the door that divided them. “Noctis? Can you speak up for me, please?” He waited, then tried the doorknob again. Useless. He sighed. “Please, Noctis. Talk to me. I am here for you. It is only us right now, I promise you. What can I do to help you?”

There was no more crying. The silence frightened Ignis more than the tears had.

“Whatever happened, we can mend the issue. This is what I am meant to do for you. Let me help.”

“No.”

“Be reasonable, Highness. I’ve no doubt Gladio had your best interest in mind.”

“I already told you…”

Ignis slowly laid a palm against the door, vexed by the walls in the way. How seriously had Noctis been bothered? Did this run deeper than what he could sense, or was he acting childish on purpose? Maybe this was another matter altogether.

Steadily the sobbing came back, and then…

“Do you know how hard it is to keep your thoughts to yourself?”

Ignis froze. The first clear sentence Noctis had spoken. He hardly managed to speak it. The tears grew, and they grew heavily. Ignis prepared an answer when his throat closed. His words caught in his throat. _‘To himself…’_ Ignis repeated mentally. The thoughts that plagued him…

Noctis was suppressing those thoughts. How could he help him now? The sounds he was making were devastating to hear. His lips sealed into a tight frown. There wasn’t a word he could fathom to comfort the pain his Highness was swirling around in. Overcome by sadness, he listened in silence to the haunting sobs of his Prince as they escalated into wails. His eyes peered ever distantly at the floor. Inch by inch, Ignis turned to lean his back against the locked door.

So solemn the sunlight had become.

“Days pass and no one knows what I’m really thinking,” Noctis spoke through gasps uninterrupted. “It never comes out… a-and all anyone ever seems to see is this selfish brat, sitting in a seat made of other people’s money and hard work. That’s not who I am, Ignis. I-…”

Though the Prince’s speech hitched, his Advisor did not speak. Though he wanted to open his mouth and reassure him – his dear friend – who he knew deserved to be comforted, felt something change. In this moment, his own words did not hold water. In this time of incredible grief, what was most important for him to do was not to contradict Noctis, but to simply let him speak. To let him be heard. Let it all be free. So, hear his Prince he did. Even as it started to break his heart.

“I don’t mean to piss Gladio off. I never mean to burden other people. Never. It always comes out the wrong way, or it never reaches anyone the way I want it to. I can’t be improper; I can’t open up or be true. It hurts. I’m just…”

Ignis bat small beads of warm water from his lashes. With a calm hand, he covered his lips as if to stop himself from following his better nature and slid down onto the floor. Again and again, he reminded himself in his mind: _“Don’t. Let him free his thoughts. Just. Listen.”_

“I’m just trying to do the best I can. Why is it so wrong to want to live by my own choices? Why is it so wrong?”

_“Don’t speak.”_ Ignis’ eyes fogged over as he blankly faced the ceiling. Finally, his arms folded over his lap, forcing himself content to do nothing.

“I already know it’s unfair. I’ve known it all my life. I ignore it to do what makes my father happy. Whatever will fix it for everyone else, without much of a second thought. I forget what _Noctis_ wants and… I can’t… let it out.”

Ignis couldn’t help but wonder what Noct was doing on the inside of the restroom. If there was any of the sunlight (suddenly seeming so much lonelier) touching him to give him what thin warmth could be offered. He was likely huddled against the door to guard it from being opened. Turned away from what he was too terrified to face. He was beside no one but himself, alone. Ignis couldn’t hold him. Couldn’t wipe the tears from his face or comb his fingers through his hair to sooth the headache he must have had.

The rage and helplessness must have been destroying the Prince. Yet Ignis sat still, and Noctis – without realizing it – was truly able to ‘let out’ what he’d been trapping deep down. Here, he could vent. In this way, Noctis could speak his true thoughts and let them be known.

Alone.

With Ignis.

Even so, knowing this was the answer Noctis needed, Ignis couldn’t help but see a failure in his actions. Saying not a single thing... was this really the most he could do? Was it for the best?

“I see how tired it makes everyone to look after me like this. And I make it worse when I tell them that I can take care of myself, like I don’t _need_ them. I know Gladio works his ass off for my sake. I know I worry my father sick trying to keep me satisfied. I know I run _you_ ragged with all the trouble I cause, Iggy. And I’m sorry. If I could- just-… change how things are… prophecy be damned. Maybe then, things would be different. Maybe they’d be better.”

There it was. The reason why.

“It’s my fault everyone’s so scrambled all the damn time. I don’t like it that way, but what can I do? Especially when your purpose is to serve me. It feels meaningless. Hate saying it out loud, but it’s true. I don’t… wanna waste your time. I… love you.”

The mute Advisor sucked in a breath of air through his nostrils and held tightly.

“And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It’s easy to lose my temper and make a mistake. I lose my head… because, I think, I want to lose who I really am. At least who I _have_ to be. And I don’t wanna be. I’m sick of pretending it doesn’t bother me. It’s obvious. Just… forgive me. Please. That’s… all I ask.”

Shame claimed Noctis in his ramblings. He quit trying to portray the way it stung, and sulked his head between his knees. His fingers clenched against the fabric of his clothes hoping somehow to banish his emotions. It took a very long time before he realized what he’d blurted. Once it registered that he’d let the truth out – the whole hearted, actual truth – the silence of his company startled him. His sniveling ended on a sour note. If he hadn’t been running from embarrassment before, then he was wishing to simply fade away at this point and become invisible.

Before, he was afraid. His fear isolated him. Now, he was just guilty, and the guilt made his body burn. Noctis smudged his tears away from his red cheeks. His entire skull was throbbing and he barely felt better. In the end, like always, it changed nothing. And yet…

“…are you still there, Ignis?”

Noctis heard an almost inaudible bleat from the room beyond. Yes. He was still there. Would he even have the heart to speak after all that?

Eventually, Ignis answered him. “I would not leave you, Noctis.”

The two steadied their breaths. As fate would have it, they both began to loath the door for keeping them apart.

“No matter the rules, no matter the faults, or destiny itself. I will stay through it all, I swear.” He now knew the cause of the hurting. It was not about the petty squabbling. It wasn’t even about the fact that he had found him cowering. This was about life, and all its bearings. This was about being royalty, and dreading disappointment. This was about striving for perfection, while accepting imperfection.

“You are my companion, Noctis,” Ignis went on. “You are my brother. As long as there is a way to improve the life you have, I will seek it out, because you are not a burden to me. You are a blessing. Even after there is nothing left, I will be with you. I will _always_ listen.”

The lock on the bathroom door suddenly clicked. Ignis flinched and thrust up onto his feet to face the Prince as he crept out, shy and messy. He hadn’t considered he might have been saying too much. It took much self-restraint not to dwell on the puffiness of his eyes. His heart ached at the sight.

When Noct’s gaze met Ignis’, it was as if time itself came to a stop.

“Do you mean all of that? Really?”

Ignis nodded without hesitation. It was almost too fast. “Of course. I-I meant every word. As I already told you, whatever happened to initially cause this can be overlooked. You won’t be alone. I’ll help you.”

It must have been obvious that he was startled to speak face to face. For a moment, Noct slipped a snicker. “ _Did Ignis stutter?”_ he pondered.

“And you’ll listen?”

A tender laugh escaped his lips. “You don’t have to bargain. That’s a given.”

After a few anxious seconds melted past, Noctis stretched out a trembling hand and curved it around his friend’s palm. His eyes looked up to Ignis, their iris gleaming with a fresh light. A second hand cupped the backside of his wrist. “Believe me, just to know someone would remember this for me… means everything.”

The familiar gesture had Ignis’s heart pounding. It roared out the trust his beloved truly held. And it made him warm. It made it all worthwhile. The sun was finally brighter again. It didn’t blind Ignis, and he made peace with it.

“Words are powerful,” he told his Highness. “If you allow them, they can evolve into a moving force. Your words will never be taken for granted.”

“Maybe it really doesn’t matter, though.”

“On the contrary,” Ignis shook a finger. “They _do_ matter. However, I will be wary of which words you use with meaning and which you chose to use as weapons. You should still be careful what you say.”

“‘Think before I speak?’ Am I already getting lectured?”

Ignis caressed the side of Noctis’ face as delicately as he could. The sensation had been dearly missed through the duration of his weeping. It was an important touch, something that could not be neglected. Every vein in Ignis’ body began to calm from the relief of feeling his skin. The Prince bent into the connection, eyelids low and lungs raspy as he breathed out.

“Never be afraid to stand your ground and let your presence be known. At least for me. I know you cannot always speak as freely as you might like, but there is a time and place for everything.” All of a sudden, he grew more serious. “That is why I think it is past time we had a word with Gladio. The both of us can go.”

Noctis reluctantly agreed. “Deal. Oh, and please… just, keep this between us? I mean, I hate already that this is gonna bring you down.”

“Let us bring down some voice of reason upon your Shield for now, so long as it should take your mind off of it.”

“In that case, you wanna really prove my words are worth listening, I would like to fire Gladio.”

And there it went. The burdens: right out the window. Surely, someday, the breeze was bound to blow the heavy load back into their paths and cause a stirrup. For the time being, this was enough. It was going to be alright.

And Noctis was smiling. Really, that was all that mattered.

“Oh I’ll give him a firing, alright.”

**Author's Note:**

> When I picture "comfort" in the sense of catering to what your partner needs, sometimes, it's best to find what they themselves desire and make sure they have it. Ignis (being selfless as he is) would know the severity of any situation where his Prince would cry. I was actually satisfied with the results of this, seeing as it has a somewhat happy ending. You can't make everything perfect, but by god for love, you can try! Let me know what you think, if you'd like. Any critiques or things like that. All kudos and comments are greatly appreciated.


End file.
